


A Modicum of Peace

by RedheadedBlondeBitxh



Series: Small Touches and Subterfuge [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fluff, tooth-rotting cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26646832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedheadedBlondeBitxh/pseuds/RedheadedBlondeBitxh
Summary: When Nora collapses at the edge of Somerville Place, an unconscious Danse in her arms, Preston learns more about his friend than he'd anticipated.
Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Series: Small Touches and Subterfuge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938718
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	A Modicum of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Who's ready for a lot of fluff?? 
> 
> I am!

It had been a sight to see, to say the least. The clamoring Power-Armor-clad figure barreling toward the edge of Somerville Place, a figure in bright orange clenched in it’s hands. Preston hadn’t thought the Brotherhood of Steel would be exploring so far south, which was precisely why he had directed many of the ghoul and synth settlers to the area. It wasn’t until the figure collapsed at the edge of the field that he recognized the choked sound of sobs coming from the soldier.

At the very least, it made more sense to why the Brotherhood would be in the area. Nora wasn’t officially with them, after all. At least she hadn't been, the last time they'd spoken on the matter. He quickly knelt next to her, his breath catching as he recognized Danse’s strong features. It was no secret that Nora had grown close to the Paladin, from all accounts of their mutual friends. From MacCready’s rendition of his visit to Goodneighbor, Hancock had been damn-near livid about his brief meeting with Danse, complaining for the better part of an hour about the man’s gall.

Piper herself had confirmed Cait’s claims about how close Nora had seemed to the Paladin, confirming that the pair certainly seemed comfortable around each other. While Danse wouldn’t have been Preston’s first thought of a companion for her, holding the Brotherhood’s ideals a bit closer than he felt was prudent, he was by all accounts, a decent man. He had displayed a certain level of care and consideration for Nora, to say the least, and Preston was confident that if push came to shove, Danse would do right by her.

After all, despite some of the faction’s questionable beliefs about synths, they were trying to take on the Institute just like the rest of the Commonwealth was. Besides, he doubted the Brotherhood had any sort of extensive experience around Gen-3 synths, and it was understandable that they would view them as a threat as a result.

It had been over an hour since Preston had left the pair in the clinic, making some sort of weak excuse about speaking with one of the settlers about some Minuteman business. He figured the white lie wasn’t too obvious, but when he saw the tender, anxious look Nora had regarded Danse's sleeping figure with, staying inside felt suddenly like an intrusion. In the faintest of moments, their friend’s words had been confirmed, and he knew beyond a doubt, that Nora had fallen for the good Paladin.

_By God, don’t let her lose anyone else, I’m begging you._

It would be a cruel twist of fate, one that the most sadistic of creators surely couldn’t abide, for Nora to lose everyone she’d loved to the destruction of the atom bomb, only to lose the first person she cared for there in the wasteland.

Preston thought back to her first few days out of the vault, trekking around Sanctuary with an aching emptiness in her eyes, despite the proud defiance she’d maintained. Her pain hung around her like a cloud of misery, and it was hard not to feel empathetic for all she had lost. But in the face of adversity, Nora had persisted, quickly adapting to her new reality. In a little over two months, she had become just as ferocious as any born and bred waste-lander, never backing down. Even going toe to toe with supermutants and Deathclaws, apparently.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Danse had survived the ordeal with the creature, appearing no worse for wear save for his lack of consciousness. Preston was trying to give Nora her space, not wanting to hover or encroach on her time with the man, but the worrier in him was nagging that he should go back and check on his patient. Head injuries could be tricky, and the first few hours after were often the most critical. He quietly made his way back to the clinic, deciding to risk the wrath of his friend if it ensured Danse was remaining stable.

The sight that greeted him was so achingly sweet, tearing at his heartstrings and making him miss Sturges all the more.

Nora was curled up in the armchair, her head and arms resting against the mattress, hand outstretched toward Danse, who was turned on his side facing her, still in his unconscious state. But even more shocking was that the Danse’s own arm was extended out from his side, hand placed lightly over her wrist. The contact was surprisingly intimate, and it was obvious that the pair was more than comfortable around each other, reaching out toward each other even as they slept.

Preston wondered if the contact was intentional, or something they’d only allow themselves when they weren’t bound by the chains of convention. Regardless, standing in the clinic as they slept felt suddenly voyeuristic, like he was seeing a side of Nora that didn’t belong to him, or to anyone else other than Danse.

He quietly slipped back outside, closing the door with all the care he could manage as not to disturb the pair. At the very least, Nora was entitled to a few cherished moments; even if it was just a modicum of peace in the raging storm of her life, and far be it for him to intervene.


End file.
